Palava Hills

Chris plotted a twelve-mile hike for our final day in Moravia.  I'm higher than you think.

The farmland--mostly vineyards and orchards-- below the limestone of the Palava Hills extends all the way to the Austrian border and beyond.  

Here we are in action.  What sounded like gunshots in the distance gave us pause, although I would have been a lot more nervous in red-state America.  Chris later learned that farmers play audio recordings to scare away the birds at grape harvest time.  

A paddocked pony gave me the side-eye when I tried to pat him.

Ruins of two fortress-like castles at least half-a-century old served as our destinations.  

Check out the view from the lookout above.

It took a lot of huffing, puffing and live blogging to get to our end point.  By "live blogging" I mean Victor's frequent reporting of his Apple watch health vitals.   Not unlike how Varick plays Scrabble with a blow-by-blow of his board frustrations.  Play the game, hike the trail!

We climbed 144 floors, not quite as many as Thom and I did the month before at Mount Mansfield.

And the views of the lake--actually a man-made reservoir and landlocked Moravia's largest body of water --were worth it.  On a clear day, you really can see almost forever.

We passed through a small, cheerfully painted village where a couple was busy making their own wine for commercial sale

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We also cheated a little and walked the highway back for a mile or two, facing a stiff, unpleasant wind.